Murmur
by Cerulean.Phoenix7
Summary: It's with the smallest of voices that Peter finally gets the words out.


Murmur

A/N: This is Peter's perspective based on the 'Destiny' promo for 3.21 'The Last Sam Weiss' along with the events that occurred in 3.20 '6:02 AM EST'.

Disclaimer: Nope sorry, I don't own it.

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><p>It started out as a quiver, a slight disturbance along the fringes of what he called <em>normal<em>. The steady beat of sixteenth notes faltered into twelfths and fourteenths, rivalling the metronome for dominance. The flick of the ancient rod across the gleaming wood was shaky and uneven; one strike a beat longer than the last.

But that wasn't the beat that Peter kept time with as he marched down the hall of the Massive Dynamic facility. There was nothing invigorating about the smooth grey walls that curved along gentle concaves and then jutted at sharp corners; the rhythm of the design bothered him.

_You'd think that a genius would have the utmost familiarity with consistency_, he thought.

The slight change shifted the beat more, eight notes drifting to sevenths and ninths as the rod swayed in a ragged counterpoint to his steps.

He didn't try to match the beat with his footsteps; the beat that he followed had already been played for years.

And when it came to the roaring _thump_ of destiny's drum, ignorance was not an option.

He passed two twin doors, filled with small panes of glass like warped eyes; the vision beyond blurred into a murky concave. He pushed the door open and only a moment later a violent gust of wind ripped it from his hands. But that was only a momentary distraction from the scene that played out just beyond the field.

He was the spectator to an archaic mural of rabid chaos as bolts of lightning cracked through the air randomly and struck at a collection of buildings across the field. Smoke climbed up into the sky as fire hungrily ate away at the buildings, famished from its dormancy.

The metronome was out of control now, frantically swaying away without a single pulse or beat. The similarity to the scene before him was frighteningly evident.

And he could think of no better words to describe it than those said by William Bell in a world on the cusp of imagination and disbelief:

"_There's an entire world out there with no rhyme or reason."_

As another crack of lightning sliced through the air he found the magnitude of his own agreement with the phrase increase drastically.

Now it was the simple matter of resetting the metronome, but without the intricate springs and screws that destiny had tucked away in its bag of tricks he knew that his intended means of a resolution would quickly fall to the realm of impossible.

Through the sharp crack of lightning and roar of the wind he could still hear the loud _thump_ of destiny's drum and when he stepped back inside the sound was louder.

The pied piper was playing his song; a melodic requiem that for the moment, only he would hear.

When he pushed the door open there was no one there, the machine stood in a solitude comparable to that of a pin; alone, vacant and no one wanted to touch it.

He didn't bother with the suit; he knew it would do him little good.

A lot of things hadn't done him much good in the past few months.

But to every situation there was always an exception and Peter knew precisely what his was.

_Olivia._

She didn't know; she hadn't known the last time and she wouldn't know now. He didn't try to call her, the idea that destiny would allow him a call to Olivia at the same moment that it was inspired to concoct a lightning storm was unlikely.

It was about as likely as the chance that a resolution to the deterioration of the universes would tumble into view if they did nothing.

When he was steps from the machine, the metal looming over him like a steel monolith he whispered into the vacant air: "I love you Olivia," and stepped into the machine as it curled around his body.

This was how the universe would end, not with a bang... but with a murmur.

_Fin_

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><p><strong>Review, Review, Review :D<strong>


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